


Richie Tozier's Comedy Bit

by arlert_jikook012



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Crying, Derry (Stephen King), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guitars, High School, Inspired by Music, M/M, Music, Singing, Surprises, Talent Shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlert_jikook012/pseuds/arlert_jikook012
Summary: Richie Tozier signs up for the talent show and the Losers assume he's doing a comedy bit. Let's just say they were quite shocked when Richie appeared on stage with an electric guitar.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Richie Tozier's Comedy Bit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My sister](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+sister).



> Please listen to "I can't handle change" by R.O.A.R whilst reading the talent show scene to get the most out of this one shot :)

“Hey- did you guys hear about the talent show? I heard a lot of people are signing up.”

“Nuh-not my type of thu-thing…”

Richie stared up at the sky with a blank expression, hardly listening to the conversation and not saying anything back for once. The clouds looked like a painting, how had he never noticed before? He came to this field nearly every day with the Losers and yet he failed to realize, until this very moment, that it served as a perfect spot to kick back and stare at the weightless ocean above. He was just so fatigued after school that day to even sit up, so there he was, hands folded under his head as he rested in the grass. 

“...Rich!”

Richie lifted his head, his unruly black hair falling slightly into his eyes. The whole of the Losers club was staring at him as if waiting for him to say something. He narrowed his eyes in confusion, “What?”

Beverly opened her mouth to speak, her red hair was even more radiant under the bright sunlight. “Eddie asked if you know about the talent show.”

Eddie was sitting beside him, his big brown eyes were staring at him attentively. Richie hated when Eddie stared at him like that because it, for some reason, made his face heat up slightly. “I’ve heard, I just don’t give a fuck.” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“You cuh-could do a comedy bit.” The leader of the group suggested, stuttering over his words as per usual. It never bothered any of the Losers, in fact, it was almost comforting to hear. Richie had already heard about this talent show and had already thought of doing a comedy bit. Obviously, he had already decided against it. But he appreciated the suggestion anyway. 

But Ben spoke before he could, “Yeah, everyone would love that.” The rest of the group seemed to think the same, nodding or gesturing in some type of agreement. With everyone’s eyes on him, Richie considered signing up for the talent show for the second time that day, but once again, he denied it.

“Nah, it would be a load of bull.” Then he put on his best announcer voice, “Ladies ‘n gentlemen, boys ‘n girls, step right up to witness Derry’s very own Trashmouth Tozier makin’ everyone he hates laugh until they piss their pants!” 

Nobody laughed. Mike shrugged, “You can’t actually hate everyone at school. Don’t you like Tracey from your English class?”

Still using his announcer's voice, Richie continued, “Oh no! Ya’ guessed wrong, lad! Would ya’ look at that, ladies 'n gentlemen, Tracey’s a fuckin’ whore! There’s no way Trashmouth Tozier would ever like the gal!” and he topped it off with a loud buzzer noise, which made Mike wince. 

“Beep beep, Richie.” Stan rolled his eyes. But at last, they dropped it. So, Richie fell back and continued staring up at the sky, a bitter taste in his mouth. 

It was later that night when Richie, for the third time that day, thought of signing up for this bloody talent show. But, contrary to what everyone had suggested to him earlier that day, he wasn’t thinking of doing stand up comedy. It was then, sitting on his bed whilst strumming mindlessly on his electric guitar - which he had bought himself - that he decided that he might actually sign up for the talent show. Sure, he hated everyone at his school, but maybe his performance would influence them to shut their fucking mouths and stop saying shit about him. Maybe he’d let everyone see a different side of him on stage, allowing him to embrace said side of himself in the process.

Nobody even knew he played guitar, so maybe he’d change that. 

The next day after school, Richie found himself standing in front of the sign-up sheet outside of the gymnasium. But he didn’t grab the hanging pen and write his name, he just stood there, unable to move.

“You know it won’t sign itself, right?”

Richie looked to his side, and downwards, he might add, at the person speaking to him. Eddie was staring at him with those doe eyes again. He shrugged, “I’m not actually going to sign it. Just looking.”

Eddie frowned, “C’mon, Richie. You have to sign up.”

“I don’t have to if I don't want to.”

“But you do want to, don’t you?” Eddie moved closer, still staring at Richie even when said boy turned and faced the signup sheet once again. There was a knowing look on his face. “That’s why you’re standing here staring at it.”

Richie didn’t respond. “Here, I’ll sign it for you!” the shorter of the two grinned, stepping up and grabbing the dangling pen. 

“Wait-” Richie’s eyes widened and he lurched forwards, but Eddie had already written his name down in annoyingly neat writing. If he wanted to, Richie could cross it out and it would be gone, but he didn’t want to. He wanted his name to be there. It belonged there. He sighed, “Really, Eds? I could’ve done that myself.”

Eddie shrugged, “But you didn’t. And stop calling me Eds!”

Richie laughed, messing up his best friend’s hair, which earned him a devastatingly cute glare. There was no turning back now, his name was on the sign-up sheet. He was a part of the talent show.

Fast forward to the night of, Richie’s palms were sweating and his stomach felt oddly heavy. He wiped his hands on his pants, putting on a huge smile in front of his friends, who were wishing him good luck backstage before the show began. He tried to hide the nervousness in his voice. “Wow, I have so many fans already and I haven’t even started,” he joked, and the Losers smiled along with him.

“Yuh-you’re going to do guh-guh-great, Rich.” Bill reassured him.

“Break a leg.” Stan said, but his voice sounded serious. Richie narrowed his eyes at him in a warning, knowing that Stanley definitely meant that literally. 

Beverly clapped a hand down on his shoulder, “He’s going to do amazing! He's the funniest dude in Derry!”

The others nodded along, all assuming he was doing a comedy bit. Ben spoke up, “Don’t worry, if a joke isn’t funny I’ll laugh anyways to save you the awkwardness.”

“Same.” Mike added. 

Richie began ushering them out, “Thank you for that, boys! Now leave! Hurry up, the show’s about to go on!”

And so, the group left. Not before Eddie tapped Richie on the shoulder and whispered “good luck” in his ear. Out of every time Richie heard that phrase that night, this time gave him the most confidence. Even so, he was extremely nervous. What if he messed up? Richie groaned, dropped his head into his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. It didn’t matter if he messed up, he was already a clown to everyone at this school, so he didn’t have much to lose. Richie ended up getting the position of the last performer, which didn’t help with his nerves in the slightest. Waiting made his anxiety fester, but he tried to ignore it and held his electric guitar tighter in his lap, anticipating the moment he had to go on the stage.

The Losers could only half enjoy the talent show because through every performance they were thinking of Richie. Eddie especially, who was wringing his hands the entire time, nervously biting his lip. He just wanted this to go well for his best friend. And when the announcer called out “And last but not least, Richie Tozier!”, Eddie’s stomach twisted rather violently and his scalp tingled. The stage was dark for a moment, everyone watched, and Eddie was expecting it to light up and for Richie to be standing in the middle of the stage with a mic in his hand, smiling at the crowd. But when the lights came on Richie was sitting on a stool slightly off to the right, his feet resting on the second bar of the stool with his head hanging slightly so his face was cast in shadows. In his arms, there was an electric guitar, and a mic was positioned in front of his face. 

Wait- an electric guitar? 

“What the fuck?” Beverly whispered aggressively from beside him. The other Losers whispered in confusion as well. 

Eddie’s heart dropped slightly and he realized that this whole time Richie had been going along with the Losers when they spoke of his supposed comedy bit, when in reality he wasn’t even planning to do anything related to comedy. Richie slowly began to strum on the guitar’s strings, and the amp sitting not too far away from him magnified the sound. Eddie watched with a flutter in his chest. Then... Richie began to sing.

“Hangin’ out where I don't belong is nothing new to me.  
I get tired and I get sick and then I lose the strength to leave.  
I can’t handle change, I can’t handle change.” 

His voice sounded so much smoother and nicer than Eddie would have thought it could ever sound. Usually Richie was so loud and boisterous, who could have known that he’d have this side to him? And when Richie started singing the next lines, he sounded sad. Eddie felt his heart ache.

“Nothing I do is ever good, nothing I do is ever good enough.  
Nothing I do is ever good...  
Nothing I do is ever good, nothing I do is ever good enough.  
Nothing I do is ever good...”

The audience was completely and utterly silent. Eddie thought that Beverly or Stan might be able to hear how loudly his heart was beating in his chest. And Richie… Richie had his eyes closed, mouth up to the mic as he effortlessly sang and played the guitar at the same time.

“Leave me alone, leave me alone.  
Leave me alone, leave me alone.”

Eddie couldn’t help but wonder who wrote this song and why Richie chose to sing it. Why such a sad song? He suddenly felt for Richie, so much so that his throat closed up and he was left just staring at Richie singing, completely frozen. He was lost in the guitar playing, in the lyrics and Richie’s voice.

“I can’t help but repeat myself I know it’s not your fault,  
Still lately I begin to shake for no reason at all.”

And at that moment, when Richie began to belt out the lyrics with so much raw emotion, Eddie brought a hand up to his mouth as he gasped, tears forming in his eyes. Richie’s eyes were still tightly shut, but Eddie knew that if they were open the sight would be indescribable. This was indescribable. His voice was so mesmerizing that everyone in the gymnasium was far gone, captivated to such an extent by his voice that nothing else mattered at that moment but him. Nobody knew that Richie could sing, but here they were, witnessing the Trashmouth become something so utterly different that it was hard to imagine that this was the same Richie. His voice, in a word, was beautiful.

“For no reason at all,  
For no reason at all,”

Every line and every word managed to make Eddie cry even more. The sound of Richie’s voice filled the gym, it was so loud, and filled everyone’s heads until it was the only thing there. Between each line, he would gasp, and Eddie felt each one deep in his soul, reverberating through his heart. Each gasp made Eddie feel as if he needed to gasp, too. It was as if Richie was sharing a piece of himself with everyone in the room, a piece of himself that was hidden from them for years. 

“For no reason at all,  
For no reason at all.”

There were tears leaking out of Richie’s closed eyes, and the light shining down on him made them glisten like jewels on his pale, flawless skin. Eddie cried with him, and seconds later he realized, when he felt her shaking beside him, that Beverly was crying too. The guitar went on for a moment after Richie’s singing stopped, and it carried out all of his emotions through it, too. Eddie wanted to hug him and tell him that he loved him. He wanted Richie to be happy, but right now Richie wasn't happy and Eddie knew that. Desperation, sadness, frustration and even agony were expressed through this song. Somehow, Richie was making Eddie feel all of this, too. 

When the guitar came to stop and Richie looked out at the audience, it was silent. Then, all at once, everyone cheered and applauded, the loudest feedback so far that night. A smile broke out of Richie’s face and Eddie choked on a sob, still holding a hand to his mouth to muffle his crying. He harshly rubbed his tears away, calming himself down with a deep breath. Bill, Ben, Beverly, Mike and even Stanley were all shouting and clapping. Eddie felt the same pride they did, but he couldn’t bring himself to cheer at the moment. He felt a sense of emptiness that he hadn’t felt before this performance. But he swallowed down his tears, unlike Beverly, who was grinning and cheering while still crying. 

Richie stood up and gave a bow, and then he left the stage. The performance was over but Eddie knew it would always be a part of everyone who was present. They would never forget it, especially not Eddie. The lights turned on in the gymnasium and the hosts came out to announce the end of the talent show. The audience was left in a state of shock from Richie's performance, and Eddie was sure that he wasn't the only one who didn't hear a word of the closing statement. Once the students were let out of the gym, Eddie pushed past people and ran towards the stage with one thought in mind. Richie. Get to Richie. 

When he burst through the backstage door, Richie was standing there in all his glory, smiling at him. Without thinking, Eddie threw himself at his best friend and hugged him tightly, shoving his face into his shoulder. "Richie- that was, that was…" he couldn't find the words, and tears were stinging at his eyes again. "You didn't tell me you'd be singing, Rich. You surprised me."

Richie laughed gently, embracing Eddie just as tightly. "That was sort of the point."

Eddie sniffled, taking in the scent of Richie's hoodie. "It was beautiful. I've never heard- or, or witnessed something so beautiful in my entire life." he pulled back, staring up at the raven-haired boy with tear-filled eyes. 

Richie shook his head in disbelief, "That can't be true."

Eddie frantically shook his head, "No, really, Rich. I… your singing made me feel emotions I didn't even know I could feel." he wiped his eyes, taking a step back. Richie opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when the door burst open again and the rest of the Losers came through. 

"What the fuck, Richie!?" Beverly exclaimed, and if you didn't know her well enough the tone of her voice could have been mistaken for anger. She broke out into a huge grin, "That was the coolest fucking shit I've ever heard!" 

Richie was then praised by everyone, and yes, even Stanley. Beverly punched Richie's arm for making her cry but he kept smiling, so happy to have such amazing reactions from everyone. They said things like, "It was amazing" and "That was so unexpected" and "I didn't know you could sing". Soon enough Richie was apologizing not just for making Beverly cry, but for not telling anyone that he could sing or that he was going to be singing that night. There were even people who Richie had never met before who complimented him after that. And when they all walked out together, Richie was noticed way more in the halls. 

It was later when Richie and Eddie were standing side by side, alone at the back exit of the school that they spoke again. Richie was finally able to say what he had wanted to say earlier with Eddie. "It means a lot to me," he blurted out, and Eddie looked up at him in slight confusion. "What you said."

The brunet smiled, "It's true." then, after a moment of silence, he spoke again. "Who's the song by? I've never heard it before."

"It's by me. I wrote it."

Eddie's mouth dropped open, "Richie…" and he realized that not only the singing, but the lyrics and the entire song itself were all straight from Richie's heart. Eddie was suddenly very sad, and he found himself standing on the tips of his toes. 

"Eds, what are you-" 

Eddie pressed a kiss against Richie's lips, and the raven-haired boy immediately shut up, letting his eyes flutter closed. He gently wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist, kissing him back. It was gentle and sweet. By the end of it, Richie was smiling into the kiss and Eddie pulled away, proud of himself for bringing Richie happiness. 

"I love you, Richie."

Richie was frozen, and Eddie was staring at him with those doe eyes again. His face grew hot, "I… I love you, too." Eddie smiled, Richie did too. The brunet rested his head against Richie's chest, they were both enjoying this moment of bliss when Eddie realized something. He pulled away, glaring at Richie. 

"And stop calling me Eds!"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "I can't handle change" by R.O.A.R
> 
> I hope you liked it :)


End file.
